#something something how house's physical pain gets worse when his heart hurts.

[justabunchofdragons]

"you took vicodin" and his face fell in a way i remember seeing when she said he should stop taking methodone or quit (and he decided to quit, because every day is a low level agony and every day no one else limps and every day has a chance to be normal to be cloudless to be free and of course of course you choose freedom) and his voice breaking on "i was scared" because house never admits that he's scared never ever not since his dad left him outside and the cold and the animals and the terror gripped him in a vice for days and "you took vicodin because you didn't want to deal with the pain... pain happens because you care." and grief being something that house is intimately aware of and terrified of, because that means he wasn't good enough - he didn't think quick enough, he failed to meet the bar (his own bar, so high. impossible high. a bar no one else even hopes for.) and pain being ever present and the impossibility of dealing with such a huge emotion when all you do is try to avoid it - and when it comes to you like a release of the floodgates, its the most horrible thing in the world. from a world where emotion is weakness and the only comfort you'll be given is your own, but surely its better to remove the need? of course you avoid it. who wouldn't?

[mytheoristavenue]

Aki, Denji, & Power Period Comfort!

Summary: Having four roommates in a two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment is complicated enough, but it's even worse when you discover you're the only one to have a period.

Warnings: All platonic, fem!reader, period comfort, fluff, takes place just after season one, just three idiots trying their best

🌸 None of you were very enthralled when Makima ordered you to move into Aki's apartment, seeing as it was already overcrowded. He had half a mind to pile you in with Denji and Power, or make you sleep in the living room but Makima convinced him to accommodate you properly. To his dismay, that meant sharing his room with Denji and letting you share with Power.

🌸 As much as you hated the arrangement, you adjusted. Luckily, Power tended to end up sleeping on the floor in a nest of blankets and dirty clothes, cuddled up with her cat, which gave you the bed to yourself most of the time.

🌸 That came especially in handy in times like these. This was the first period you'd had since moving in and it was especially bad. You'd been in terrible pain all morning, curled up with a hot water bottle like it was your lifeline. Luckily, Meowy had sensed your discomfort and came to cuddle with you for a change.

🌸 "Cat thief!" You heard from your roommate as she stirred awake to find her beloved companion's betrayal. "Unhand my darling Meowy!" Yeah, you definitely weren't in the mood for her crap today, lifting the cat, much to it's dismay and setting it on the floor.

🌸 "It came to me, jeez," You groaned, pulling the blanket over your head. "Not trying to steal your cat, you psycho."

🌸 Before you knew it, the feral girl was pressing her nose into Meowy's fur in pursuit of something, turning her face to the air, sniffing it as well. "The scent of blood is in the air, did you hurt my cat?" She asked accusingly before giving a smug grin. "I see, you tried to take him and he scratched you, is that it?"

🌸 "No, dipshit, I'm on my period." You groaned, patience already thinner than trace paper. Power gave you the most condescending look she was capable of, explaining that a period was a grammatical symbol of punctuation, not a physical thing you could lay on. You paled, staring at her blankly. "Power, do you not have a menstrual cycle?"

🌸 "Of course not!" She huffed. "Fiends are incapable of organic reproduction! Such is a human weakness!" Great, the only other girl in the house had no clue about girl problems. You went on to explain a few things to her, such as what a period is and why it had you so disgruntled. "Ahh, so that explains your paler complexion, you're suffering from blood loss!"

🌸 If there is only one thing Power understood, its blood and how a lack there of can affect the performance of the body. She thought to herself before getting an idea. "Iron, you need iron!" She decided, scrambling to her feet, darting to the kitchen.

🌸 You couldn't help but laugh. She wasnt not the brightest, especially when it comes to human affairs, but it warmed your heart to see her so eager to help solve your probelm, even if she didn't fully understand it. Just as you were about to get out of bed and see what she was up to, you heard a voice that makes you cringe.

🌸 "Yo, stop pullin' everything outta the fridge, dumbass!" Your shoulders slumped, knowing Power would surely explain her antics to Denji, who you were certain would be disgusted.

🌸 "Unhand that contianer, I'm on the hunt for red meat!" Your roommate shouted, sparking an altercation. "(Y/N)'s life hangs in the balance! She's bleeding out, she needs iron!" Her words seemed to quell his irritation and before you knew it, he'd barged into your room, panic written all over his face.

🌸 "Holy shit, are you dying?!" You couldn't hide your annoyance, pinching the bridge of your nose as his eyes scanned you worriedly.

🌸 "I'm not dying, I'm not bleeding out, and my life does not hang in the balance." You grumbled, brow twitching. "I'm just on my period."

🌸 "Oh, gross," The look on your face told Denji he'd made a mistake with that comment and he was quick to backtrack. "I-I mean, uh, it's cool, it's totally natural! I-I think..."

🌸 "You're an idiot." You deadpanned, pointing out the door to usher him out. To your dismay, he came right back with a stale pillow and blanket. He nervously fluffed the naked pillow and shoved it behind your back, spreading the blanket out on top of you. You couldn't stay mad at him, he was trying.

🌸 "Oh shit, periods like- hurt, right?" He thought aloud, leaving again and returning with a bottle of generic painkillers. "Oh wait, you need a drink, uh, hold on." He tossed the bottle at you and scrambled back to the kitchen, before bringing you a soda.

🌸 "Can I have some water instead?" You asked politely, trying to hide your amused smile. He looked between you and the soda can, puzzled.

🌸 "I mean, I guess," He accepted suspiciously. "What, you don't like soda anymore?" Before you can explain to him the link between the pain and the caffeine in the drink, Power bursted into the room, shoving him to the side and pushinng a plate of raw red meat into your lap.

🌸 "You dumbass, humans can't eat raw meat, it's bad for us!" Denji scolded, grabbing the plate and handing it back to her. "You have to cook this shit!"

🌸 "I don't know how to cook!" Power argued back childishly. "Besides, the bloodier the meat, the more iron it will restore to her bloodstream! It has to be raw!"

🌸 "Listen, humans can't digest raw shit like that! If (Y/N) eats that she'll probably die of salmonella or somethin'!" You didn't have the heart to explain that that's not how such a bacteria was passed on, but you did agree that, knowing Power's hygiene habits, she could give you salmonella.

🌸 You groaned, letting them bicker until the front door opened, slamming shut. "Why the hell is my kitchen in shambles right now?" Aki bellowed prompting both of your 'care takers' to scurry away.

🌸 "(Y/N) is dying of blood loss!" Power informed him, urging how dire the situation is.

🌸 "Nuh-uh, dipshit, she's just on the rag." Denji rolled his eyes at her concern.

🌸 "And that means you destroyed my kitchen and piled all the raw beef we had on one plate, why?" Aki narrowed his eyes at the pair. "Mind explaining further?"

🌸 "She has to build up her iron levels!" She growled, irritated that nobody is listening to her expertise. Denji continued to argue, thinking surely, she's full of crap.

🌸 "No, that's actually true," Aki admitted with a heavy sigh, already beginning to clean up her mess. "Red meat contains iron and when you lose a lot of blood, you develope an iron deficiency. Eating iron rich foods help replenish your iron levels faster." He explains, finally putting Power's words in a way the boy would understand.

🌸 "But she just can't eat a fuck ton raw meat!" Denji huffed, more irritated that he was wrong than anything else.

🌸 "Also true," Aki sighed, taking out a skillet and setting it on top of the stove, pulling the plate closer. "Look, I'll take care of this. Denji, go run a hot bath, Power, you go see what kind of products she uses and what snacks she likes."

🌸 Power came back and asks you what you prefered for this time of the month. After both of their tasks are completed, Aki sent them both to the nearest corner store with a specific list of what to buy.

🌸 After they left, he peered into the room calmly. "Denji ran you a bath, go ahead while I make you some food." He suggested kindly tilting his head towards the bathroom. You thanked him, relieved to have someone who sort of understands.

🌸 By the time you got out if the bath, you were much more relaxed, muscles no longer as sore. To your suprise, your fuzziest pajamas were sitting on the sink along with a warm towel. Exiting the bathroom, you realized Denji and Power were back, bags still in hand.

🌸 Aki waved you over to the table, inviting you to sit down with them all. When you did, he served you a portion of broccoli and beef. After lunch, he took the dishes, giving the other pair a chance to pass off what they bought you.

🌸 You didn't miss the pink in Denji's cheeks when he handed you a specific bag, tied off at the top. You correctly guessed that it was the one containing the products you'd asked for. Aki walked back over and sits back down as Power starts to hand you snacks.

🌸 She piles your arms with junk food, decaffeinated drinks, and dark chocolate. "Aki forbade us from buying anything with caffine!" She explained, annoyed, as if the idea was inconvenient for her specifically.

🌸 "Caffine will make you feel worse than your already do." He explained, passing over a still packaged electrical heat pad and a small stuffed bear. "These are just for comfort."

🌸 After spending a bit of time them, thanking them for their help, you decided to curl up in bed and test out the heating pad. You most definitely didn't expect to find your bed with many more blankets and pillows than you'd left it with. It had effectively become a nest of comfort and Meowy was already waiting to do its part in helping you recover. The sight made your eyes water a bit.

🌸 Power had tried to cuddle with you as well, reasoning that her body heat would also help, but Aki quickly shut her down, banishing both her and Denji to the living room. To ensure they left you alone, he sat on the balcony, watching them while blowing through a pack of cigarettes. Though he'd tried not to let on, he was a bit worried about you, texting you frequently as the day drug on. He'd seen you take bullets with less trouble so it was hard to imagine what kind of pain had you doubled over in bed.

🌸 'You okay?' 'Need anything?' 'Idiots being too loud?' He'd silently check up on your throughout the day, never going to physically check unless you'd left him unanswered for longer than an hour. He wanted to let you sleep if you could.

🌸 When you felt better, you were sure to wear your mood outwardly to show them how well their caretaking had worked. You thanked them endlessly in the next few days, always willing to spend time with them to show your gratitude. Power was happy to have you at full strength again, and to once again be the center of her cat's attention. Denji was glad he would no longer be subjected to your mood swings, at least for a while. (also that Power would sneak him some of your snacks after she deemed them unnecessary due to your period ending.) Aki was just relieved to see you felt better, being the 'dad friend' of the house.

🌸 Ranking of how they handled it:

🌸 Power: 7/10

Very willing to help, just clueless of where start. She feels a kinship with you, being the only other girl in the apartment. Blood is her area of expertise, so she knows a surprising amount about what will help on a logical level, she just doesn't really get how to safely put that knowledge to practice.

🌸 Denji: 5/10

Doesn't really care as much as the others, but they're freaking out about it so it must be important! He's mainly concerned with your pain. Knowing he's seen you take some serious blows that left you with little change in demeanor, it makes him a little nervous to see you so pale and dizzy. He doesn't really know how to help, but he's not opposed to learning. He secretly does think it's pretty gross, but when Aki explains he'll have to know this stuff if he ever wants to get a girlfriend, he's a over it.

🌸 Aki: 10/10

Knows exactly what you need, thanks to his experience with the women around him, especially Himeno. She definitely overshares with him enough for him to understand what to do. He knows the fundamentals and is able to steer the other two in the right direction. Very knowledgeable and level headed, but a bit of a worrier. Will text you if you are in the bathroom too long and will remind you to pack products before you leave for work.

Let's face it, me writing for Chainsaw Man was only a matter of time, I've been cooked since the first episode.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Extended Parting

Synopsis: After being separated from you for so long, Childe finally finds you again.

Foul Legacy x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Comfort Warnings: Mentions of blood, physical injuries, fear, pain, crying, allusions to being attacked

Original Request by Anon: requesting requesting! beep bop beep bop ! more foul legacy × reader hurt/comfort, perhaps? :3

hear me out- in the format of a scenario; just pure comfort, reader is perhaps sent of to a dangerous mission/commission while childe is away doing his own thing. when he is going back home however, he stumbles across a group of fatui, taking the reader hostage & hurting them. foul legacy's reaction to his "allies" hurting the love of his life? and how he would take care of the reader after, assuming the reader got pretty severe injuries (even though they're not fetal).

Im a big sucker for this big boi getting all soft when the reader is hurt, and i wanna see more of him just holding the bleeding reader in his arms while trying to comfort them

~ * ~

Two weeks, three days, seven hours, and eight minutes. That’s how long you’ve been apart, how long Childe has gone without being in your presence, and he’s hated every second of it. Important commission, hah! No commission could be so important that it took you away from him for this long- almost half a month! All of your other missions took you a week, tops, and even then he could barely handle it, missing you more and more as each day passed without a single word or letter. Of course, he admits, it’s not like Childe didn’t also have his own duties to attend to during this time, this extended parting. As usual, he was forced to store Ajax and Childe away, slipping on the mask of Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger, and taking delight in violent diplomacy. But even fighting and bloodshed did little to satiate his longing for you; how much he wished to see your wonderful smile and that keen twinkle in your eyes, hear your lovely voice, cradle you in his arms and kiss your cheeks- Childe groans, burying his face in his hands. It makes him irritable, constantly yearning for you, and Foul Legacy is even worse. His Abyssal half is constantly clawing at the back of his mind, worrying his talons and whining as he asks why they haven’t seen you yet? Where are you? When will you be back? He wants cuddles something fierce, desperately seeking out the attention and affection you always give him only to find that you’re nowhere near. They’re both so lonely without you, only each other for company, and Childe has to physically bite his hand to prevent Legacy from simply snatching control of their body away and flying off to find you. With a sigh, the Harbinger wipes the blood from his blades, then his hands, and finally his face, ginger hair all wild and unruly. At the very least, today was when he would finally return home to Liyue. He never thought somewhere other than Morepesok could be considered home, but it turns out that “home” is wherever his heart is, and he gave it to you long ago to keep safe from everything that hurts.

Home… Childe’s mind drifts back to the house you both share, a small smile instinctively tugging at his lips. With a quiet snap of his fingers and a salute, his underlings are dismissed- they’ll be going back to the Fatui Headquarters in Snezhnaya. Childe, however, packs his supplies near the road back to the harbor city, waving the agents away, and the moment they’re out of sight his smile widens into a full-on grin, a delighted gleam in his azure eyes. 

Even just thinking about you seems to bring out the best in him, Foul Legacy chirping happily in the back of his head when Childe reassures him that yes, they’ll be seeing you again soon. If you’re done with that horribly long commission of yours, that is, which he’s sure that you are- even the most arduous never take up to three weeks. Despite being exhausted, he finds a spring in his step, dust swirling as his boots land against the dirt path. You, you, you- he’s going to see you again, his beloved and most treasured. Childe almost glows with energetic joy as he jogs, as if he never fell into the Abyss at all. His hand twitches, Foul Legacy begging and pleading to be let out after spending so long locked away, but Childe hushes him gently. You’ve said that you like it when he’s kind to Legacy and Legacy is kind to him- they are part of each other, after all, and you love both of them- so he tries to treat the monster as a friend rather than a weapon, and with a huff Legacy settles back down. Something faint and distant as the moon pierces the night, and Childe pauses, ears pricking. He tilts his head to listen, and for a moment he hears nothing but silence. Until- there, there! A scream! It’s far off, over the next hill, but unmistakably there. Even from a distance Childe can hear the desperation, the terror burning into his bones like a raging fire with a familiarity that makes him stop in his tracks.

No… no, it couldn’t be. It can’t be- Please, please let him be wrong- Childe’s feet carry him towards the sound, dread spiraling and twisting in his gut as another awful shriek rings out and he looks up, eyes widening. He was right. Oh, he was right, and he wishes he wasn’t, because it’s you. It’s you, gripping your weapon like a vice and covered in blood, expression filled with panic and fear and pain. It’s you, still in your adventurer’s gear, bag packed with whatever stupid, insignificant item the commission wanted. It’s you, surrounded by Fatui agents- not his, thank the Archons- the rest of them laughing and sneering. It’s you, hurt and scared and looking as if you’re about to collapse onto the ground and never rise. It’s you, and Childe’s veins freeze over with cold, splintering ice. You’re pressed against a ruined wall, swiping the blade in your hands at the soldiers, who merely snicker at your weakened attempts. The leader- one of those Electro vanguards with a giant hammer- smacks the weapon aside and seizes your arm, and you let out an involuntary yelp of pain as tears prick in your eyes. The yelp is all the motivation he needs, and Childe barely feels his restraint shatter like glass. They never even saw it coming, Foul Legacy throwing his spear and ripping the agents apart as fast as lightning, vibrant purple sparks searing the grass as he roars, driven only by wrath and fury. The vanguard who grabbed you so violently shouts in surprise and horror- then everything goes silent, apart from Legacy’s heavy breathing, claws dripping with blood. He exhales, curling his talons into fist with a tight crackling noise, letting out a low, guttural growl of rage. You bite down fiercely on your tongue, trying to stay quiet, but you can’t help but gasp in pain as the slashes in your body flare, and Foul Legacy’s anger burns away as quickly as a dying candle. He turns and rushes to you, chittering frantically, only to freeze when he sees you stiffen, petrified with fright. His chirps and trills lower to soft croons, gentle and sweet and familiar, crouching slowly to your height and holding out a hand. He tentatively inches forward, hand extended and palm up, claws curling delicately around your wrist when you desperately reach for him. “A-Ajax…?” Legacy’s Abyssal heart cracks, and he swiftly gathers you in his arms, whimpering and nudging his forehead against your cheeks as you cling to him and let out anguished, hitching cries. You suck in a breath when his talons ghost over a wound, and Legacy almost sobs with despair. Some part of him- the rational, trained soldier that is Childe- tells him to get you home, heal you, make sure that you’re well- he carefully gets to his feet, holding you close to his armored chest and adjusting your head so it’s pillowed by his lavender fluff. You shudder with pain again, and Legacy gently licks his tongue over the shallow scrapes on your face, cooing softly; with a flutter of his glimmering wings he takes to the sky, his arms cradling you like you’re made of crystal and gold.

He lands near your shared home not ten minutes later, hastily unlocking the door with the key he always sees Childe using. The house is quiet and a little dusty from being empty for so long, but your bed is as soft as ever as Legacy delicately lowers you down onto the mattress. Childe is the one who tells him what to do, again, guiding his claws to gently wrap your wounds with snow white gauze. None of them are fatal, and Legacy thanks his constellation with a grumbling sigh of relief. A quiet croon slips out when he sees you fading in and out of consciousness, sweetly cupping your cheek with a clawed hand- he’s shaking. Why is he shaking? He’s not the one who nearly died- but your hand comes up to weakly grasp his, and Legacy’s heart melts and breaks and patches itself up all over again.

Your lips twitch into a shaky smile, exhausted, your fingers resting on Legacy’s and soothing the minute trembles running through his body. The Abyssal creature- your wonderful, sweet Abyssal creature- blinks slowly at you, crystalline eye filled with tears that drip down his crimson face and pool in the divots of his mask as he fights to contain the sobs that threaten to break out, and when you reach up your other hand, covered in bandages, to caress his cheek, his breath hitches and he collapses into your arms, burying his head against your neck and weeping. In a whispered voice you coo and murmur and hum to him, repeated words of “it’s okay, I’m here, I’m okay”, and he tries so, so hard to do it back to you, his own sounds cracked and stuttering, something along the lines of “don’t leave, I miss you, I’m sorry”, or as close as he can say with a mouth made for biting and gnashing. Your hands lightly tug him closer- or rather, your hands tiredly loosen and he moves to follow them- until he’s close enough for you to press a soft kiss to his forehead. Legacy immediately purrs, tearful and whimpering, and your silent offer of lifting up the blanket is met with an instance moth monster at your side, curling around your body and holding you close. He’s careful not to squeeze you, trying to get as close as possible and mold his form around yours as you rake your hands through his fluffy coppery hair, drawing more deep, comforting rumbles from within his chest, the type he makes when you’re dreadfully ill.

Cats’ purrs are healing, so you’ve heard. Perhaps Abyssal beasts’ purrs are much the same. Slowly, your eyes begin to droop, and you yawn, exhausted and worn. Foul Legacy quietly nudges you, a croon of reassurance falling from his fanged maw, claws dancing over the wraps on your skin now stained brilliant red. It hurts, it hurts like fire- but you’re safe. Safe in your bed, and in Legacy’s arms, and the tension leeches from you and dissipates into nothing. You vaguely hear a soft melody, low and rumbling and familiar from when you’ve sung Foul Legacy to sleep, and the arms around you tighten ever so slightly as the sun finally dips beneath the horizon into the locked box of night. Two weeks, three days, eight hours, and thirty minutes. That’s how long Foul Legacy refused to let you out of his sight, even after your injuries had closed and healed.

[fefern]

Hiii I saw ur Scar hcs, and the TD Hybird part really piqued My interest. If Reader (gender-neutral), agreed to it, how would Scar react to it! And also Maybe, if it’s painful (because it probably is, considering it’s like shoving a whole New Lifeforce into your body) would He feel sorry for Reader? (I would feel sorry for myself if it Hurt 💀)

✧˖° scar's reaction to you agreeing to merge with a tacet discord. | scar headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: after some thought, you agreed to merge a tacet discord with your body just like your lover scar has kept asking you to do! how does he react, and what's the process like?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved: scar, gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none! no serious details of the transformation process, but if it's too much let me know and i'll change the warnings!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hi hi pretty anon!! thank you for sending this wonderful ask in!! had me wondering for a long while how exactly scar shoved that whole other being into himself LOL!! (~ ~)" hope you enjoy this! requests are open as always! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ scar ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

when you first come to him with the idea, he’ll blink once. then twice. then a third time.

did he hear you right?

he’d at first be shocked that you’d agree

he’s used to asking many people to join the organization and insert a tacet discord into themselves just to be met with rejection time and time again. it's a normal part of his job.

but for you to agree? and it being his lover nonetheless!

scar is over the moon, so happy that you’re aligning with his ideals! he knew you’d come around!

he’d immediately begin talking energetically to you about the side effects that he experiences, and what it’s like being able to transform and merge your body with a whole new life form. 

it takes a lot of preparation for you two to be ready for this event, and when you’re all set up and ready to go, he’s the one that flicks the switch to begin the transformation. 

sparks fly, and a bright white light appears in an instant, almost like lighting. 

and he knows it’s a part of a process, and he knows what it’s like to be in there.

heck, he’s kind of got a manic happy expression seeing how successful the process of putting the tacet discord into you is going.

but can’t help how a small part of him feels his heart drop as he hears you scream, hears the way you’re in pain, sees the way that you’re in tears because of how painful it is.

watching you, his lover, get ripped apart in real time, and then getting pieced back together, hurts a part of him he didn’t expect to feel.

he almost wants to turn it off, to go back, but that in itself is risky. if he stops it  now, he’ll be threatening you with being seriously injured or worse, dead.

so he lets the process finish, basking in your glory and shoving down his worries before it finishes with a halt. 

some smoke appears, but when it settles, there you are.

you most likely have some new scars now or other physical changes due to the process, but he still finds you just as beautiful as you were before. 

he’ll quickly rush to your side and for the next week or so, he’s stuck to your side. his eyes are always on you, and he’s essentially nursing you back to health. 

you will be doted on to the fullest extent, and he’s suddenly the best house husband in the world.

he keeps telling you during this time how excited he is for you, how much of a stronger duo you two will be together, and how he’ll train you to be the best of the best just like he is.

but on the first night that he’s taking care of you, he’ll have his back towards you, sitting on the edge of the bed as you lay down. his tone gets softer, a little out of character for how usually smooth and charismatic he can be. after some silence, he breaks it.

“thank you for doing this for me. for a while, it felt as if this side of me was something i couldn't explain to you, but now, you truly are able to understand me for who i am. i will guide you through this new journey, and i will love you with all i can.”

probably also kisses the back of your hand after he says this KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING-

[luckymilkshakerebel]

Unspoken Love: Minho's Tender Care After Our Loss

Genre: comfort, strengthen the bond, miscarriage mention, foster connection

Cast: Lee know (minho) stray kids x female reader

---

The air in the house was heavy with silence, the kind that pressed down on your chest and made it hard to breathe. It had been days since the miscarriage, but the pain still lingered, sharp and relentless. You hadn’t spoken much since it happened, retreating into yourself while Minho, your husband, quietly stood by, giving you space but never leaving your side.

He was your anchor in the storm. You didn’t know how he managed to stay so calm and steady, but you were grateful for him. You didn’t have the energy to speak most of the time, but Minho didn’t seem to mind. He was there, always there, making sure you ate, making sure you rested, and just holding you when the sadness became too much to bear.

But today felt different. Something was wrong—more wrong than usual.

You woke up feeling sore, your chest heavy and uncomfortable. At first, you thought it was just part of the physical recovery process, but as the day went on, the ache in your breasts grew worse. By the time the afternoon sunlight was streaming through the living room window, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

You sat on the couch, staring at your hands and trying to make sense of the discomfort. Your body felt foreign to you, like it didn’t belong. The ache in your chest wasn’t just physical—it was emotional too, a cruel reminder of what you had lost.

Minho walked into the room, his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. He had a knack for sensing when you needed him, as if he could feel your emotions without you saying a word.

“Hey,” he said gently, sitting down beside you. “How are you feeling?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Minho reached out, his warm hand covering yours. “What’s wrong?”

You bit your lip, glancing down at your lap. “My chest hurts,” you said quietly. “I don’t know why.”

His brow furrowed, concern flickering across his face. “Hurts how? Like... sore?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It’s been getting worse all day.”

Minho was silent for a moment, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Have you checked?”

You shook your head, a wave of guilt washing over you. You hadn’t wanted to deal with your body—hadn’t wanted to face what it was going through.

“Let me help,” Minho said softly.

You looked up at him, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. “Help how?”

“I can take a look,” he offered. “Just to make sure everything’s okay. If it’s too much, you can tell me to stop.”

His voice was calm, steady, and full of reassurance. You trusted him completely, and though the thought of being so vulnerable made your stomach twist, you knew he only wanted to help.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Minho gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before helping you up from the couch and guiding you to the bedroom. He grabbed a couple of pillows, arranging them behind you so you could sit comfortably on the bed.

“Just tell me if anything hurts or if you want me to stop,” he said, his voice gentle.

You nodded, your heart pounding as you lifted your shirt. The ache in your chest was sharper now, and when Minho gently touched your breast, you winced.

“Sorry,” he murmured, his brow furrowing as he examined you. “It feels like...” He trailed off, his expression shifting as realization dawned on him.

“What?” you asked, panic creeping into your voice.

“I think your milk is coming in,” he said softly.

You stared at him, your mind racing. “What? How? That doesn’t make sense.”

Minho sat back slightly, his hand resting on your knee. “It happens sometimes,” he explained. “Your body doesn’t realize yet... about the baby. It’s just doing what it thinks it’s supposed to do.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your body didn’t realize. It didn’t know. The tears came without warning, spilling down your cheeks as the weight of it all crashed over you.

Minho immediately reached for you, pulling you into his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry, love.”

You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his chest. The grief was overwhelming, the pain too much to bear. Minho held you tightly, his hand running up and down your back in soothing strokes.

When your tears finally subsided, you pulled back slightly, wiping at your face. “What do I do?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“We’ll figure it out,” Minho said, his tone full of quiet determination. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

You nodded, trusting him to guide you through this.

“First,” he said, “we need to relieve the pressure. It’ll help with the pain.”

You glanced at him, unsure. “How?”

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I can help,” he said gently. “Manually. If you’re okay with it.”

The thought made your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but you knew Minho wasn’t suggesting it lightly. He just wanted to help, to ease your discomfort in any way he could.

“Okay,” you said quietly.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile and grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom, placing it nearby. He sat down beside you, his touch careful and deliberate as he began.

At first, the sensation was strange—unfamiliar and slightly uncomfortable—but as the pressure in your chest started to ease, relief washed over you.

“Is that better?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Yes,” you whispered, tears welling up again. “Thank you.”

Minho paused, his thumb brushing away one of your tears. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly. “I’m here for you. Always.”

The room was quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the occasional sniffle. Minho worked slowly, his focus entirely on making sure you were comfortable.

As the physical relief spread through your chest, the emotional weight of the situation hit you all over again. Tears slipped down your cheeks, unbidden, and Minho immediately noticed.

“Hey,” he said gently, his hand coming to rest on your arm. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just... everything,” you said, your voice breaking. “I feel so broken, Minho.”

His expression softened, and he pulled you into his arms once again. “You’re not broken,” he said firmly. “You’re grieving. Your body is trying to heal, and that’s not something you can control. But you’re not broken, love. You’re stronger than you know.”

You clung to him, his words sinking into your heart. It didn’t erase the pain, but it made it feel a little less heavy, knowing he was there to carry it with you.

When he finished helping you, he cleaned his hands and sat back against the headboard, pulling you into his lap. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you said softly.

“You’ll never have to find out,” Minho replied, his hand gently running through your hair.

The grief was still there, a quiet ache that would take time to heal. But in that moment, wrapped in Minho’s arms, you felt a flicker of hope. With him by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

Want to read more you can go to my MASTERLIST

[homemadesterekpie]

for the people who watched Downton Abbey do yall remember the arc when Anna gets assaulted by that shit stain of a vallet and starts pushing Bates away because of it? and then Bates practically forces Mrs. Hughes to tell him the truth and the goes to “confront” Anna about it?

well i’ve always wanted a story like that for Sterek. the sheer emotional satisfaction that single scene between Bates and Anna is so beautiful and amazing i always wanted something similar for them.

the only thing that i would change is that Derek would find out on his own about what happened to Stiles.

Stiles feeling absolutely disgusting and drowning in shame about what happened even though none of it was his fault. he can’t look Derek in the eyes anymore. he shuts down every conversations Derek tries to have with him. he evades Derek’s touches like they physically hurt him. he starts sleeping at his dad’s place again even if he’s moved in with Derek months ago.

it comes to a point where Derek thinks he’s going insane because he has no idea wtf is happening. Stiles smells of misery and pain and the smell just keeps getting worse and worse.

until it all clicks together and when it does he’s running at neck breaking speed to the sheriff’s house and he goes through Stiles’ old room’s window like old times and he hears Stiles in the shower so he just stands there and waits for Stiles to come back in his room.

but as he waits he can hear Stiles crying in the shower. and its not pretty, its those painful hacking sobs and wails that sounds distressingly similar to the ones Stiles was making when Derek had been gravely injured after fighting to protect the town against [insert a real nasty villain thingy here] and they hadn’t been sure he would make it.

it takes everything in Derek not to rush into that bathroom and take Stiles into his arms and comfort him but he makes himself wait for him. makes himself listen to Stiles’ anguish until finally the noises subsides somewhat and Stiles finally makes it out of the shower and the bathroom.

at the first sight of him Derek’s heart gives a painful pang. now that he knows what happened he wonders how he hadn’t pieced it all together faster, he’d been so blind. but he isn’t now. it takes way too long for Stiles to notice him standing there at the window but his eyes seem to be glued to the floor these days.

when he does notice Derek, his eyes goes wide with shock and the acrid smell of fear almost knocks Derek back a few steps. it’s a smell he hasn’t smelt from Stiles targeted towards him in years. his very soul aches with that realization. but then Stiles’ eyes falls right back to the ground and the smell of fear abates to give way to the distinct smell of shame.

Stiles asks him what he’s doing here. he sounds annoyed. but Derek can hear the tremor in his voice. he can see how tightly wound Stiles is. his shoulders are shaking with it under the thin sleep shirt he’s wearing.

Derek just says he knows. and Stiles stops moving. he was rummaging in his sock drawer but at Derek’s words he goes still.

it takes Stiles multiple attempts but finally he says “what?” and he sounds so small and vulnerable.

Derek just repeats that he knows, he knows what happened and as he does, he approaches Stiles slowly like he’s approaching a wounded animal.

but before he can touch him Stiles darts away from him saying he’s fine. i’m fine Derek, okay i’m fine! but he’s still not looking Derek in the eyes and his bottom lip is wobbling.

Derek decides to try another angle and ask why didn’t Stiles tell him. and immediately tears starts falling down Stiles’ face.

Stiles just says that he was too ashamed and that he knew Derek would find a way to blame himself when it was actually all Stiles’ fault. and then seeing Derek isn’t saying anything Stiles finally adds that he feels too dirty to be with Derek and that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be clean again. and a sob escapes him and thats when Derek finally engulfs Stiles into his arms.

Stiles keeps sobbing brokenly into Derek’s chest and Derek fights his own tears as he tells Stiles in a strained voice just how much he loves him and how he’s Derek’s and nothing would ever change that. Derek would never let him go and would always love him no matter what. he’d always be beautiful and precious to him, etc, etc.

Stiles goes back home with Derek that night. they even make love again. it’s slow and gentle and Stiles cries during it but he never tells Derek to stop even tho Derek asks him about a hundred times. Stiles feels a lot more like himself the next day. Stiles had been so used at having Derek be his rock, his sun, his centre, that pushing him away had made the whole situation worse. Derek is the foundation of his support system.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hi love 💕 can you please write reader x damian where she has like a chronic illness \ pain and she has some of those days where all she wants is to be taken care of? thank you 💗💗💗

wrote this with high fever so probably not the best :(

damian priest x reader

one of those days

being in that car accident when you were seven really fucked up your life. you were lucky to even be still alive, only getting out of it with bad injuries but nothing worse. expect your dream of being a wrestler fading away.

you grew up watching wrestling with your family. your dad was a fan. your mom was a fan too and you grew being a fan too. you remember asking wrestlemania tickets every year for christmas, nothing more.

but you knew that after being stuck in bed for over a year did nothing but more damage to your body.

it was a really bad accident, leaving you with the worst back pain you’ve ever felt. you thought it was going to go away but it never did. growing up the pain became stronger to the point you had to stay weeks away from school because you couldn’t even move. your dream of being a wrestler completely faded away but your lucky star made your wish come true anyway.

you were a sport journalist and even if you worked for hockey, baseball, football and basketball somehow you ended up hosting a wwe post game show. and that was everything you ever dreamed of.

you had the chance to meet amazing people, new friends and even the love of your life.

at first it was scary having to host interviews with the judgment day but in the end you found out they were the most caring and loving people you’ve ever met. you and rhea bonded immediately. she was the first to know about your pain and about the accident that happened and she made you promise to always call her in case you needed anything. same thing happened with finn and dom. with damian things were a little different. he fell in love with you the moment he saw you and he wanted everyone to know that he was in love. he started from giving you coffee in the morning to offering you lunches and dinners. he loved picking you up in the morning and taking you back home at night. he just loved being in your presence.

and you ended up falling for him too.

he always took care of you in a way no one ever did. not only about the physical pain. he knew you. he knew how to listen to you. he knew how to read you and that was all that mattered to you.

it was one of those morning where you were lucky you didn’t have to leave the house for work that day because you just spent the worst sleepless night ever.

your back was hurting once again and you couldn’t even move your legs to go to the bathroom.

“is everything okay princesa?” damian asked when he saw you trying to move your position in bed.

“just one of those days…”

“here let me help you” he smiled at you, moving his arms under your back, making sure to not hit the spot that hurts you. he helped you sitting more comfortably in bed, positioning some pillows under your back and under your head.

“thank you” you smiled at him.

“it’s my pleasure, do you need anything else? water? something to eat?” he asked softly, making sure he wasn’t overwhelming you.

“i’m okay, thanks” you whispered “can you just hug me?” you shyly asked him.

his heart melted at the sound of your soft and sweet voice “of course love” he said, helping you moving towards his body so now you were laying on his chest while his hands went to your back, gently massaging it.

“does it hurt?” he asked.

“today more than yesterday…it’s normal tho…i just have bad days too”

“i know…i just wish you didn’t have those days…whatever you need i’m here, food, water, a hot bath, just say it and i’ll make everything possible” he smiled at you.

“can we just stay like this forever?”

“as you wish my queen” he laughed making you laugh too.

“i just love you so much damian…thank you for always being here for me”

“te amo mi amor…so much” he whispered when he saw you relaxing against his chest and closing your eyes once again.

he never thought he would find love but you came and proved him wrong.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Ive just recently discovered your blog and i love it so much omg 😍 I also saw ur post in u said we should send in parent sc rqs 👁👁 so can i pls req scs for the dorm leaders when they accidentally hurt the child? and how they would react? its up to u on how you want the dorl leads to find the child tho! ✨💖

Idia Shroud: 

Idia felt dread, so heavy that it’s like the entire world was just dropped on his shoulders. Is it happening again? A repeat of the Ortho incident as some sort of cosmic karma? He’s already a constant homebody but he’s even more likely to lock himself away, like a princess in those fairy tales who’s always guarded by a vicious dragon. He doesn’t know how to articulate his pain or grief at hurting someone he loved dearly but you can be assured that he won’t take a chance like that again.

Kalim Al-Asim: 

Kalim is completely heartbroken as he had started off only wanting to show his child a cool trick he could do with his magic. He regretted it immediately, admitting to fault and learning another valuable life lesson: money really couldn’t make everything okay. He attended to them himself during their recovery, wanting them to feel how truly sorry he was. Not that he was a strict parent before, but he showered them in gifts, afraid of them potentially harboring hatred in their heart for him (something he could definitely never recover from).

Leona Kingscholar: 

Leona is agitated with himself for accidentally hurting his own child but he doesn’t offer words of apology, instead handing them off to you and closing himself off the rest of the day. You think it’s selfish of him to do so but you know that he’s always had a hard time dealing with his feelings, especially when it came to admitting he was in the wrong, so you did your best to let your child know it wasn’t their fault (while taking care of any leftover wounds incident). When Leona finally interacts with them again you’re proud to hear a very quiet apology slip out of his mouth, a hand placed on your child’s head as he stated they would both have to be more careful from that point on. 

Malleus Draconia: 

Accidents happen, and Malleus himself had been put into many dangerous situation when he was a baby. It was just a thing that fae children happened to be attracted to and he wasn’t the least bit surprised when the same happened to your child. He’s not happy that it was at his hands but he knew he had been holding back anyway, the damage could be far worse than what it was. He’s more afraid of dealing with you in the aftermath as he was sure he’d hear an earful but you just seemed relieved that your child wasn’t seriously injured, holding them close while they told you about all the cool things Malleus could do with magic. 

Riddle Rosehearts: 

Riddle gets the haunting feeling that he’s just like his mother. Her abuse was more verbal than physical but he couldn’t help but hear ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’ out of the mouths of everyone who learned of the accident. He felt sick to his stomach despite his constant apologies and overbearing doting over his injured child. He handled them like a fragile antique, no magic allowed in the house unless they were a safe distance away. He still had a specific set of rules in place to prevent something like that

[oxpogues4lifexo]

Full Kook - JJ/Rafe Fic

Part 1/? - Bella Brooks

Summary: Part 1 is an introduction to the OC told by JJ Maybank. The lead up to my story. Overall this fic is about a troubled Pogue who finds comfort in people she least expects whilst dealing with many turns of events. A/N: This isn't planned out in any way shape or form. No reliability on the release of any parts I'm just writing this because I enjoy writing if it's not for you please move on. Warnings: Mentions of sex, alcohol, drugs, violence, abuse (mental and physical) Anything I missed lmk. Word count: 800

(Not proof read)

JJ's Pov:

Bella Elizabeth Brooks

My best friend since before I can remember. 

Most commonly known as the 'Princess of Kildare Island'; With the face of an angel and a heart of gold. The girl everyone wants to either be, or be with.

I'm pretty sure she'd give it up to anyone if she could... 

She's the perfect girl: a sweet persona, gorgeous appearance, kindest soul to exist. Who wouldn't want to be friends with her?

The answer.. everyone.

She has a close-knit group of friends, only through her dad. Me, because our dads used to be close friends, Sarah because him and Ward are disgustingly inseparable, and then Topper and Kelce because.. well.. Rafe. 

Swiftly moving on..

Bella's the type of person that people don't particularly see as a friend, but more of someone they can go to if they need something. She thinks it's a compliment; that people go to her when in desperate need of help. 

But no just.. no.

She's a toy.. pretty much sums it up; an easy target. 

It makes me sick thinking about it. 

People take advantage of her empathy, her soft attitude, the fact she can't say no. They see her as someone who can get away with anything and use that to their own benefit. 

She puts everyone first, doesn't want there to be any bad in the world, likes to make everyone happy anyway she can. Even if it means breaking herself in the process.

So my duty as her best friend is to keep her safe from the world. Keep her away from the bad. 

It physically hurts to know about the way people see her, and so I feel as if it's my job to protect her from ever dealing with it again. Dealing with the pain and the hurt she puts herself through for others who deserve nothing but a stick up their ass. 

She's my priority. And I will let nothing get in the way of me taking care of her and treating her how she deserves. 

Except for one tiny problem..

Thomas Brooks. - The man who created the Island's untouchable sweetheart.

Let's just say he's got a bad reputation.. but having Ward on his side gives him MAJOR  advantages. 

Don't get me wrong, the Brooks family is THE MOST respected family on the Island but just.. for the wrong reasons. 

And sadly it's not my place to say. Sorry, not sorry. I hate talking about it. 

Anyways, Bella is my everything and before you say ANYTHING, it's purely platonic. 

Well, to her. 

But, with everything she's been put through with all the fucking leeches in the OBX, I don't blame her and I wouldn't ask for it any other way. 

She's my rock, my girl. And no one will EVER take her from me. At least, they can try but it won't end well. Speaking from experience.

Enough about Bella.. but more about Bella..

She lives on the Cut, with me. Well no actually I live with her but, same thing. 

She has never once moaned about the little amounts of money her dad earns, and never once made a single comment about where she lives. 

It's this run down shack-like house. Imagine the Chateau but just.. worse. 

The walls are boarded up from the masses of storms that have destroyed what used to be there causing the remains to become rotten. The windows are cracked and the furniture is far from usable. 

The only healthy-ish part of the house? Bella's room.

It's a huge contrast from the rest of the building, almost like it was placed there separately. The wall's a bright white colour, her soft bedding and her drawers overflowing with colourful clothing puts the rest of the place to shame. A large window overlooks her room, filling it with more light than the whole house sees combined. 

The reason behind this is because her dad isn't the greatest dad. But in his defence he's aware. And so he spends the only bit of money he has on her - Always. Without any slight slither of guilt. He would give her the world if he could and she knows that, which is why she excuses his actions. 

She holds a pretty smile to cover the hurt she feels beneath. Her vibrant choice in her room reflects the young girl inside of her. 

She hasn't got an easy life and if it wasn't for me living with her, I wouldn't understand.

If the island really knew why she's the way she is.. they wouldn't want to be her. 

Please let me know what you think x

Thank you for reading 🌹❤️

Masterlist

[mountingpulisic]

BOYS DON'T CRY

a/n: this is just a quick little something i wrote for mason, it actaully pains me to read all the hateful comments he receives. i hope he knows how much he is loved. song boys dont cry by camilia cambello

i know thoughts you don't want in your head

are spinning 'round, 'round, 'round

i know you got demons from the past

slowing you down, down, down

but you don't answer your FaceTime

you never had much of a poker face

it doesn't make you less of a man

you're just human right now

the amount of hate mason was receiving online was alarming, every move he made he was getting criticized for.  

he didn’t vocalize it to you; however, you knew that it was getting to him. you saw past the fake smile he’d mustard up when discussing his performance with his father, telling tony that he was just in a rough transition right now, having a hard time adjusting to potter’s way of coaching. 

he thought you were bought into his act as well, reassuring you that everything was fine and you shouldn’t worry about the rude comments. he insisted it didn't bother him, that he knew of the challenges of a footballer career when he signed up for it. 

when I'm afraid of the world and every part of me hurts

you don't know how many times you've saved me

so why you hiding from me? It's only making it worse

i just wanna be close, my baby

you had caught him one afternoon reading the comments, stopping by his house since he had been ignoring your calls. when you first heard the sniffles, you thought he was just simply catching a cold but when you investigated further and saw the golden boy at the dining room table with a few fresh tears streaming down his face with phone in hand, you knew it wasn’t the common cold.

approaching him slowly and bending down so you were knelt in front of his thighs, you finally saw his true emotions towards the situation. bloodshot eyes and a running nose were what your eyes settled on; he tried shifting his posture and hiding his face when he saw your sympathetic look. not wanting you to see him like this because his old man had always told him boys don't cry.

“mase, baby, stop trying to hide away from me. you are only making it worse, you need to talk to someone about how you are feeling.” just wanting to hold him close, stood up and you settled down into his lap. he instantly wrapped his arms around your waist, nose nestling into your neck. 

fingers finding a home in his tangled hair, you created a safe place for him to cry. his body shook in snobs, tears hitting the flesh on your neck, as he finally expressed his true emotions. 

“i have given this club, the fans, the owners, my all. I have played through injuries, i have been the poster boy that they have all wanted for me to be. although the second i hit a rough patch, the second i’m not scoring enough goals, i’m the reason why we are last place in the league? that all our problems will solve if i no longer played? how could they turn their backs on me so quickly, love?” 

give me your pain

i'll take the weight off your shoulders

don't be afraid

fall into me, let me hold you

we weren't made

to hold back the rain from the sky

who ever told you that boys don't cry, boys don't cry?

it absolutely broke your heart seeing him like this, there was nothing more that you wanted to do than to take the tremendous weight off of his shoulders. you knew mason was afraid of getting traded, the thought alone of chelsea using the player nineteen as a scapegoat made you angry. you thought it was hilarious that these die-hard faces screamed for mason’s removal but forgot how he was the player of the year for two consecutive years. it was as if all his hard work had now vanished from the memories, that now he was just some washed up player who didn’t deserve a spot on the team. 

you knew now more than ever that you had to be there not only physically but emotionally for mason. us as humans weren’t made to bury this type of pain within ourselves, how everyone needed an outlet. 

you gripped him closer to your chest as you whispered reassuring words to him, “everything is going to be okay, baby.”

[ultravioletqueen]

I'd like to hear your thoughts on my rewrite of him my brain is a bit fried but I tried my best hope you like it

Still the same

But as a child he honestly tried to protect his brothers from their mother's abuse he didn't like her massive favoritism because she had other children to worry about why him

He honestly spent many nights in the dungeon when he would yell and scream at their mother especially after finding out she literally had intercourse in front of his younger brother that left a very bad taste in his mouth because he's just a child younger than him

And when he found out about Cordelia abusing his other brother he went crazy but safe to say she ended up with some injuries that needed to heal

Because she can harm him she can whip him hell she can even torture him for all he cares but he's not going to let her get away with hurting the people he loves dearly

Because she's the reason they're ruined

And throughout the years he eventually snapped he grabbed a silver knife and stabbed that woman

As many times as he could but unfortunately she got away but still died in the end

Although he wished he didn't kill her he wished he left her crippled because he views death as too easy he needs her to live with her consequences of her actions but there are some decisions that are made and cannot be changed or go back on which he finds hard to accept but accepts it in the end and

he's not the type to insult people unless they really deserve it or humble them

Personality

Kind-hearted a bit bratty but can be quite shy

And soft he finds it hard to open up to others because he is used to hiding behind a facade acting like he's the best even though he feels like the worst

He struggles with self-confidence but he keeps it very down inside because he will just get in the way and divide

And he by no means is a sadist I mean he deals with a sadistic mother and has to deal with his brothers think any God in the universe that the youngest of his brothers isn't a sadist either because how could they take pleasure in someone's pain sure they've been hurt before but why not work towards being a better person that's the question that plagues his mind every time he sees his brothers and their actions with his own eyes and sometimes he fights the urge to cry because he blames it on himself maybe he could have done something maybe he could have prevented it even though it wasn't his fault he was just a child

My changes on how he'll treat Yui:

He's a bit of a tease but he's honestly kind-hearted to her and gets her out of a lot of bad situations when his brothers want to punish her for stupid reasons the way he teases hers when she makes her cute mistake nothing that would actually make her feel bad or make her angry but just the time that can easily make her laugh as well hell he even lets her tease him even if she's bad at it

But looking at this poor girl that's been thrown into the situation one that has been brainwashed and manipulated by the church he simply can't help but be possessive he's not to the point he would physically harm her but others around them

He keeps her far away from his brothers because they're just as worse if not more except Subaru since he knows he isn't the worst

He desperately tries his breath to protect her he still has regrets about being unable to protect other Brides when he was still very young when they were being sent to the house

Facts

He honestly thought since all of them were unfortunately abused they wouldn't want to repeat their parents Behavior work towards

becoming a better person he hoped but he came to the disturbing and horrifying realization that all of them took pleasure and inflicting pain upon someone that has done nothing wrong to them

especially those that don't deserve it and all because of what they're sent here to be Brides so what still doesn't give them the right to treat them as if they're rag dolls they're literally the reason they have blood to drink instead of taking it out in public that is something that leaves a better taste in his mouth not even the sweetest blood can make it go away for a long time

Body facts

He has some scars on his body from brutal punishments which is quite insecure about and which he covers

His hands are long / thin

With visible veins

He's the tallest out of the triplets

He looks like a mix of both his mother and father in face structure but he has red hair and green eyes his mother's eyes

He's not a twink he has muscle on him

He's kind of a big teddy bear that just wants to be loved genuine love not lust

Sexuality

Omnisexual

He can't feel sexual attraction unless he's in a deep and committed relationship with someone he doesn't want it just to be sex that just makes him feel used

And because of his behavior he's the most thought after when a bride is sent to the house some Brides have even ran to him or Subaru

Because they know they're the safest and have the most empathy and Sanity

And he is definitely let younger Brides Escape or have killed them but as painless as possible because they are just children it's best just to put them out of their misery

I LOVE THIS AYATO! This is how they should write him instead of the bratty sadist we got, i love how you changed his relationship with yui and his brothers! 10/10

[klausinamarink]

decided to write a steve part as a continuation of my steddie deals with chronic pain ficlet. Might’ve wrote this more in vein as a prequel but eh, you’re welcome :D also extra angsty

-

Steve used to consider himself as the embodiment of high pain tolerance. Since his junior year, he had been punched in the face many times, had a broken plate in his scalp, injected with Russian drugs, and gotten bit and nearly strangled by interdimensional monsters.

Or as he calls it Tuesday.

But after the Spring Break of Hell, Steve’s been feeling weird. Not the usual looking at my own body when I do things weird, but more physically weird. He doesn’t really know how to describe it even to Robin when he feels like he’s suffocating but there’s nothing around his neck. Or how every day his arms and back sting and pinch him at every breath like ants biting underneath his skin. Or how he’s walking fine until the next second, his knees get stiff and the pain travels upwards right to the top of his spinal cord, the place right on the back of his skull, it aches and aches to the point that he’s frozen but he has to move anyways because he’s standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

All he knows that it’s probably worse than the intense migraines he’s dealing with since Billy Hargrove and the Russians definitely cracked his right eye socket.

But there’s people who are more hurt than Steve. Like Max and Eddie who need and are getting actual help and care. He almost wants that too, but it’ll just get him in their way. Nobody would look at him and think that his suffering is even the same as theirs.

(Please, his heart and brain begs, look at me and take care of me. It hurts so much.)

So, even with his body betraying him and hurting him in ways he thought wouldn’t happen, Steve isn’t going to admit it. His injuries are healing fine anyway.

But god, can his body just actually rest and not hurt like bitch for one fucking hour?

(I’m sorry for hurting you, his body apologizes again, but it’s what i can do right now.)

It’s gotten more annoying, really. Steve keeps pushing the pain behind him, pointedly ignoring how it’s blurring his vision and pulses his certainly cracked eye socket. He knows it’s affecting his mood, but he doesn’t want to be that asshole King Steve anymore. He doesn’t want to everyone to lose their trust in him. So he keeps smiling, driving the kids, visits everyone, hands out clothes and food, and lives with the acid corroding his entire body.

Unsurprisingly, his suffering pushes back like an exploded dam.

At the Munsons’ new house, he’s visiting Eddie, who’s been more tired than Steve’s ever seen him since being discharged from the hospital. He still talks to the Party but he couldn’t go outside much without his scars and limp acting up.

It’s during when Steve finds himself placing wet towels on Eddie’s bare shoulders (“I can’t waste the water but I need some cold water on me right now!”) that it. Just hits him.

He can’t explain it - he’s never good at explaining anything well - but the sour and tired mood Steve’s been vaulting up vanishes. But then comes the hyperawareness of how much his skin is bubbling and itching with discomfort, his muscles dissolving into bone which are exploding starbursts of agony, and the pulsing under his right eye is slithering through his brain. It should’ve been horrible than the Russian torture, but it doesn’t even hurt. It’s like in class when the teacher is giving an important lesson but Steve is barely listening.

He does feel overwhelmed but so much so it just circles back to apathy. He doesn’t feel himself moving but he does end up on the floor, his face pressed against the frizzy carpet.

“Steve? Are you okay?” He hears Eddie asking. Feels him poking at his buzzing shoulder. He opens his mouth to say something but only says through salt-tasted lips, “Hurts.”

“Oh shit, what hurts? Where?”

Steve doesn’t answer. He closes his wet eyes and refuses to open them. The pain still follows him even when he falls asleep because of course it does. He hasn’t gotten a pleasant night of sleep since the demogorgon burst out of the Byers’ ceiling, but the pains makes him closer to the edge of consciousness than he liked.

When he slowly wakes up, there’s a heavy pressure sitting on his back. Steve lifts his head up and sees Eddie sitting on him, reading a worn book and the towel still on his shoulders.

Huh, that’s new.

Eddie flips a page, his eyes flickering to Steve, who stares blearily back. Eddie gives him a small smile. “The king awakes from his slumber as the prophecy foretold.”

Steve blinks. “W-Why are you sitting on me?”

“Wayne lays facedown sometimes after his shifts and I sit on his back almost every time. He says it’s the best massage he ever got.” Eddie says nonchalantly, but then he looks nervous. “Is, is this working for you?”

Steve reflects on his body. The pain is still everywhere but it’s a bit lighter this time. Where Eddie sits on his back is like a fucking miracle - the pressure settled into the muscle and bone where it feels like a portion of how his body used to be before the Upside Down busted into his life.

He grins with long-lost relief, “Yeah, man, just stay here forever. I’m not gonna move again.”

Eddie looks at him pensively, putting his book away. “Steve, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, this is kinda weird but I don’t mind it.”

“Steve, are you okay?”

He doesn’t cry, but Steve feels the tears trickling down his face and over his nose. He sniffs, blinking rapidly as Eddie gets off him and the pressure disappears so the pain comes back in its ugly sense. Steve turns around so his back on the ground and he’s staring at the ceiling, refusing to look at Eddie. He never cried before even when his body started hating him and he started hating movement.

“Hey, hey, Steve. Look at me, big boy.”

He does. Eddie is laying right next to him, his worried doe eyes staring at him. Fuck, he looks so kind and Steve shuts his eyes, clamping a hand over his mouth. The phantom pain of the demobat’s tail returns, but it feels more wet and clogged.

Eddie’s hand is on his. Gently moving Steve’s hand away from his mouth. Eddie is still looking at him as he says, “You hurt worse if you don’t ask for help.”

Steve opens his mouth. For an awful second, he wants to yell at Eddie ‘what the hell do you know about feeling like complete shit”. But he doesn’t and he is so fucking glad because it would’ve been so hurtful to Eddie and Steve would feel even more in agony that he just proved the other boy’s old impression of him as an asshole.

Instead, when Steve opens his mouth, he doesn’t say anything and starts weeping. He sobs like a baby and Eddie is holding him closer now, his face pressing against Steve’s messy face.

Moments pass in a blur. Steve stops crying. Eddie has moved himself on top of Steve, the familiar weight pressing the pain down and forcing his bones and muscle to rest. Their faces are closer to each other now, Eddie’s nose brushing Steve’s chin.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks again in a hushed tone.

Steve gives a little shrug. “A little.”

“Is this okay?”

Steve isn’t sure if he’s talking about laying on him or this new kindle of their friendship or both. But he nods, carefully wraps his arms around Eddie’s torso, and rests despite the pain stiffening him.

[muserryy]

LARRY'S LITTLE KITTEN

masterlist

☆•° Harry, Louis with his broken wrist and their Little kitten, blue. hope you enjoy :)

James invited Harry and Louis as well as some of his other friends for a fun and light-hearted lunch. Everything was going well and good but then they both ended up at the hospital.

Louis William Tomlinson is quite a sass-master and though he may be sassy and unapologetic, he's also one of the kindest folks you'll ever meet. He appreciates a good joke now and then but when people get on his nerves and tease him and make fun of his physical attributes, more specifically; his height. He always knew how to fire back with a sassy quip. 

After lunch, everyone moves to the outdoor space of the house and gets busy gossiping and stuff. The sun is up but the weather is still pleasant and comfortable. The sound of soft music playing in the background and chatting provides a delightful environment. Harry is sitting there being kind and all smiley, having simple talks with anyone while Louis is busy with his own friends and mutuals as he stirs the glass in his hand.

Harry's head turns to Louis when he hears his voice carried by a loud laugh.

"wanna bet? I am very speedy, you know?" Louis says as his fellows tease him. 

Harry frowns not knowing what they are on but he goes to Louis and stands beside him when a guy starts calling out everyone.

"What's going on?" He asks him in a whisper.

"A race." He replies.

"A race?" Harry frowns.

"They think, they can win against me just because I’m short… I need to prove them wrong."

Harry sighs and shakes his head. "You know you don't have to do it just to prove them?" 

"Harold!" Louis fake gasps. "Do you think I'm gonna lose?"

"I never said that," Harry rolls his eyes.

Louis sweetly smiles at him, his eyes almost shutting.

"You, my love, just hold my beer and enjoy the race." He says, handing him his glass and walking away as the race is about to start. 

The garden is approximately 30 metres long. They decide that the one end of the garden will be the scratch line and the rear end will be the finish line. 

"The first one to touch the wall will be the winner." A guy says, seeming more than excited ever. He then smirks at louis.

Louis keeps a straight face, not showing much of his expression as they take their positions. 

"on the count of three. "

one. two… three! 

Louis starts dashing as others do the same. Shouting started and the names of the sprinters were being yelled.

Harry places the glass down and intensely watches, especially Louis who is at the very first. His celerity is actually so high that his body doesn't slow down when he gets near to the wall. His palms make contact with the wall and his body jerks back from the impact and he falls to the ground. 

Harry immediately slaps his palm over his eyes. He already knew something was about to happen. When there is louis, there is a happening but little did he know it's even worse this time. Nothing like slipping into the pool when one day Louis and some of his mates were drunk and tried walking in a straight line on the edge of the pool or trying new skateboard tricks in front of his friends but end up falling on ground, that caused him a minor backache. 

Harry sprints to where the lads are now crowded.

"You see I won, I told you, I told you!" Louis stands up and suddenly feels a sharp pain in his wrist, causing him to yelp but that doesn't stop him from shading them.

"So now.. I thought I was shorty? I beat you. It must mean that you're shorter than me, right?" Harry hears his sarcastic tone as he gets near them. 

The guy, who challenged Louis, laughs breathlessly and pats on his shoulder.

Harry comes to the front, seeing Louis shaking his right hand. "Ow!" He again yelps in pain.

"What happened? " Harry asks, moving closer to him. 

"Broke my wrist maybe." He giggles as shakes his hand again. "fucking hell, it hurts!" 

"Don't do that!" Harry stops him. "Is it hurting too much? let me check!"

"I guess it's just a little pain from the sudden crash." He tries to assures but he himself knows it's something worse as the pain starts getting unbearable.

"Louis, just let me see." Harry carefully takes his right hand and lightly presses his fingers to his forearm and then his touch wanders down around his wrist. That's when Louis again curses in pain.

"Maybe it's really broken…" James murmurs to Harry, pursing his lips and shaking his head.

Harry looks at him worriedly, "we should go to the doctor. right now!"

_______________

The doctor takes an x-ray to assess the damage. He then immobilizes his wrist in a splint for support and so that bones can grow back together properly. 

After 2 days, the doctor discharged Louis and ensured a successful recovery. and now they just got home from the hospital.

"Oh C'mon Harry," Louis whispers but giggles while sitting on the bed. "I did win."  

Harry glares at him and his voice gets deeper. "congratulations! you proved them wrong but they don't even care. guess your wrist is just collateral damage, huh?"

"Well fuck, I didn't know this would happen. Did I?"

Harry keeps looking at him, he is not the one to shout or yell when he gets angry. He does become frustrated but he tries not to raise his voice or use profanity.

Louis tries to remove his pants with his uninjured hand. He did and threw it on the floor leaving himself in his boxers. Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, he is familiar with his lover's habit.

He is about to remove his sling. "Don't!" Harry interrupts.

"I need to change. It smells like shit from the hospital."

Louis removes his sling carefully and tries to pull his shirt up but it was difficult with one hand.

Harry glares at his boyfriend, knowing he won't ask for his help so he just goes to him and kneels down in front of him. Carefully grabbing the hem of his shirt and helping in the process making sure not to make his wrist jerk in any way.

Now the shirt is finally off. Harry stands up taking Louis's shirt and his pants, which he threw on the floor not too long ago. He puts it aside. 

Louis just watches him like a child, shifting the fringes on his forehead to the side. 

Harry takes out his grey tshirt, which is obviously big for Louis. Walking back, and kneeling down he puts the fresh shirt on him. It wasn't typical like before as the shirt was big and loose. He then put on his sling. 

Still kneeling down, Harry stares at Louis, who was sitting on the bed, staring back at him. 

Silence. 

"Look, I'm not sorry, " Louis starts. "Because I didn't know this would happen. But if I had known and still decided to race and broke my wrist anyway, then maybe I would've apol-" Harry stops him from rambling by cupping his face with his hands and putting his thumb on his lips.

"There's nothing to be sorry about." He says, caressing under his lower lip with his thumb. "I know that you take jokes but there's no need of proving anything to those people. They just like seeing you annoyed."

True. His sarcastic humour and hilarious comebacks would've been enough for them. 

After a moment, Harry brings his face closer to him and kisses him on his lips, their nose nudges. Louis kisses him back softly and sighs as they pull away. 

"I'll make you some tea." They both stare into each other's eyes again. 

"I'm sorry.." Louis says, pursing his lips when he sees Harry frowning. "We had to cancel our evening trip to the flower shop because of me."

oh, the little evening trip to the flower shop. Harry smiles, knowing that he's genuinely sorry. 

Louis knows how much Harry likes to visit random stores and places such as flower shops, books and stationery stores even if he doesn't make much purchases, he just likes to admire such places and stuff. It's peace for him and Louis always likes to accompany his man. 

"it's not your fault… and we can do that any other time." Harry pecks his lips again. Standing up, he walks to the kitchen and Louis follows him.

Harry sets the kettle on the stove and begins making tea while Louis sits on one of the stools near the counter. Harry serves his homemade cookies on a plate and sets it in front of Louis.

They were talking when they heard a mewl sound, making their heads turn towards the tiny kitten. She crawls near Harry's feet and starts snuggling into it.

"Aye kitty, saw you after a long day." Harry crouches down and picks the little creature in his hands. Harry did come back to check up on her when Louis was at the hospital.

"This lil' shit!" Louis rolls his eyes as the kitten comes into his view.

"Loueh!" Harry scolds him, softly.

"You know I don't like her, we brought her here just because you wanted."

"At Least don't call her such names." murmures Harry. "Just look at her," He brings the cat near louis' face.

"Keep her away from me." Louis turns his face away, making a look of disgust as Harry laughs, pulling the kitten back.

"She's gonna be a great company during your broken wrist phase."

_______________________________________

2 DAYS LATER 

Harry is done writing in his journal for today. He keeps it inside his closet and walks in the living room to find Louis sitting on the couch watching some unknown entertainment on TV. But what surprises him the most is the kitten sitting on his lap. Harry squints his eyes on the cat to see one of her tiny legs covered in a gauze.

"What am I missing?" Harry asks, surprised.

"Well, she is a great company and… is cute." Louis runs his uninjured hand over the cat's little but soft furry head.

"Told ya, didn't I?" Harry sits next to Louis. "And what happened to your leg?" He asks the cat.

The cat lifts her gauze covered leg and looks at Harry, making her usual sounds.

"We were just bored so I did it." He looks down at her and smiles "yeah, blue?" Who replies with a meow.

"Blue?"

"That's her name."

"Why blue, though?"

"Because…" Louis shrugs. "She likes the colour of my eyes."

"Okay, now how do you know?" Harry turns his body to him, getting amused by this conversation.

"Because She kept our eye contact without breaking it at any point."

"Oh really?" Harry chuckles and shakes his head "so you thought she likes the colour blue?"

"yeah, she even likes it when I flip her off." Louis adds, making Harry laugh even more.

"I'm serious! you don't believe me? well...look at this." Louis puts his middle finger right in front of her face and she takes a hold of his mid finger with her front legs and snuggles her face in his hand. 

Harry covers his face with his hands, he can't stop laughing.

He cups Louis's face from the side and kisses him on his cheekbone. He presses his cheeks against louis' and they both smile down at their kitten, blue.

The 3 of them got busy as the TV was already being ignored for a long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thank you for reading <3

[found-wings]

"is this what you wanted" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

*ahem*

yes

anyway-

it is okay I do the exact same thing of reading something that makes the brainrot go crazy and have to do a walk around my room just to compose myself before continuing to read 😭😭

BUT OH MY GOD DUDE THE ACTUAL PHYSICAL RECOIL I HAD THE VISCERAL REACTION I GAVE WHEN REALIZING YOU ADDED HIM GETTING TAKEN MULTILPLE TIMES TO THE POINT WHERE HE CAN BARELY REMEMBER???? ADDING IN THAT THE FEDERATIOND TESTS AND EXPERIMENTS KEEP GARNERING WORSE AND WORSE RESULTS IN THEIR EYES TO THE POINT WHERE HE NEEDS THAT MUCH 'FIXING' OW THE FUCKING PAIN ESPECIALLY FOR AN ANARCHIST CHARACTER TO BE STRIPPED OF THAT SPIRIT and the memory manipulation mwah in character for the federation

also the specific feeling of fighting feeling wrong to his very core is so special to me bc it feeling wrong to him is so different then if he had been forced to dislike fighting which is VERYYYYY SEPERATE HERE ‼️‼️ they def fucked him up with various torture methods within their experiments and made sure to wipe it from his mind so he can't remember what specific events occurred in the buildings- but can still feel the lingering effects of their training to give him a negative association with combat. especiallyyyyyy with the detail of his hands shaking when he thinks about using a weapon, I wouldn't be surprised if at his return, his hands would be more crooked and seem a bit out of place at a closer glance from the federations training tactics.

and the way I could genuinely feel my heart Drop when he refused a sparring session- not just bc of phils side of the angst hammer here, but from the idea of etoiles witnessing firsthand how no matter how strong the spirit is, the federation will break past it and leave hollow souls in its wake. how he tried so hard to make sure his friend could stay positive and resilient despite the world being out to hurt him and it still wasn't enough. phil is home safe and sound but a part of him had died in those horrific white buildings at the hands of that damn bear. but etoiles will be dammed if he doesn't find that spirit and shove one of his dozens of death totems towards it and makes sure they get given a second chance because letting the federation win like this will never be an option in his eyes. honorable battles is such a big part of his character in canon so to rip that from someone so close to him would be absolutely disgusting to him and he'd keep fighting not only for himself but for phil too, because he needs to leave this island knowing that his enemies will have been rightfully punished for everything they've done to hurt people. good people.

and also MY NON-EXISTENT THERAPIST WILL KNOW YOUR NAME FROM THAT LAST LINE YOU ADDED HOLY FUCK I WAS LOOKING FOR ANGST NOT A BULLET TRAIN SENT DIRECTLY TO MY HOUSE ‼️‼️‼️‼️ - 💿

ME WHEN, I AM SO RAAAAAH, I HAD TO STOP MULTIPLE TIMES WHILE WRITING THAT AND JUST, HEAD IN HANDS

I absolutely love the specific feeling of fighting feeling wrong. Because Phil doesn‘t dislike it even if someone tried to make him hate it - he adores fighting and sparring, being able to move almost like water because he‘s decently lightweighted considering he‘s an Avian and it makes his movements feel so free. He finds fun and enjoyment in it, it helps him clear his mind and relax even, but after the consistent ‘fixing‘ he had to endure it just feels wrong.

And Phil doesn‘t even know why.

It doesn‘t make sense to him because he can‘t fully remember anything bad happening anymore, but his body remembers. It remembers everything, each and every ‘fixing‘ he had to go through, even if his mind doesn‘t.

Gods, just imagine witnessing the Person, your friend that you looked up to and admired and respected in the same way they did you, just.. break. Be broken into someone you can‘t recognise anymore.

ALSO THE WAY YOU TALK ABOUT ETOILES REFUSING TO GIVE UP PHIL AND INSTEAD KEEP FIGHTING FOR HIM TOO AND AND-, AAAA, WHAT‘S YOUR NON-EXISTENT THERAPISTS NUMBER, BECAUSE I‘LL NEED ONE IF I GO BACK TO ANGST, WHEEZE

Anyways— IQVD

All of this just makes me think about possibilities of actually finding that fighting spirit again, with Etoiles taking slow and little steps with Phil. He can‘t push Phil even further behind, he knows that he has to take it slow and careful because of the messed up shit the Federation has done to him. And sure it won‘t be the same, it never will be, not with the damage the Feds have caused at this point, but it can still come back in new ways.

Maybe the first steps start with Phil watching Etoiles fight again. Friendly fighting and cheering, making sure the island is safe by getting rid of mobs around. Phil flinches more than he likes at first, but it‘ll be fine. It always ends up fine, it has to be.

Eventually Phil maybe starts trying to cook again, smiling gently as he makes something to snack on for himself and maybe Etoiles. It takes some time, but eventually Phil can hold a knife without recoiling into himself too much.

Eventually they start with sticks, watching Phils expression twist into some mix of being offended and yet uncertain at the same time. If a mere stick was going to make him this nervous, they had a long road ahead.

Just imagine Phils hands still shaking more than he wants to, it frustrates him because he doesn‘t understand, he doesn‘t! And yet Etoiles does, guiding him through that frustration as they eventually and finally start their sparring sessions again.

The first attempt lasts barely a few seconds before Phil panics, each attempt slowly but surely increasing in time the more they try.

Maybe it‘ll take a while for Phil to return back to his used to be spirit & confidence in himself and until they get there, Etoiles doesn‘t mind being Phils shield again.

Etoiles has seen Phil break like he’s nothing but an egg and he‘ll be damned if he doesn’t help him heal those cracks again.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Mothers of the Moon

Chapter 7 - Fondness

Masterpost

So, this is a very heavy chapter.

I was initially planning for it to be Wolfstar (and it goes very wolfstarish at the end), but at the heart of it, this is an explanation of how Minnie and Poppy wound up adopting Remus.

There’s Defo going to be more backstory, and it has also left me with questions about where I want to go with this fic! :)

TW: Mentions of abuse (physical and emotional), addiction, nightmares brought on by PTSD.

“Mum? Can I talk to you?” Remus said as he knocked the door of Minerva’s office. She glanced up at him with a smile.

“Of course, are you alright?” She asked him, a spike of anxiety hitting her for a moment. When he nodded reassuringly, the anxiety loosened, Minerva always worried and ready to protect Remus. Even if he was 16.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, I just-“ he dropped himself in the chair on the other side of her desk. “The nightmares have started again.” He answered quietly, Minerva’s heart dropping.

She had known that dreamless sleeping potion was a temporary fix. Everybody grew a tolerance to it eventually, but she was hoping that it was different for Remus, with his lycanthropy and all.

“How bad?” She asked.

“Pretty shitty. Sorry.” He added, glancing down at his hands. “I reckon they’ll get worse, I’m just not sure what to do.”

Minerva remembered the nightmares at their worst.

Mostly when Remus was 9 and 10, and he’d wake up in the middle of a panic attack, sobbing, absolutely falling apart in either hers or Poppy’s arms, sometimes both. It was an awful time for him, and they hated seeing him in pain. The potion had done wonders for him, and it had lasted for years, longer than it did on most.

She knew that they were just prolonging the inevitable.

“What are they about?” She asked.

“…Hope.” He admitted.

Hope Lupin.

The day Minerva and Poppy had legally adopted Remus was probably one of the most difficult days of Hope‘s life.

Lyall had walked out on Hope after the attack, after she had refused to let him give up on Remus. It had been… difficult. Poppy had always been close with Hope, Minerva the same by default, and she was a wonderful woman. She had been struggling so much after Lyall had left, turning to unhealthy coping mechanisms and leaving Poppy and Minerva to pick up the pieces, help with Remus when she couldn’t, which was a lot.

Until the breaking point.

Until she broke down in front of the two of them and begged them to raise Remus, because she couldn’t. Not in the way that he deserved.

She got to say goodbye, of course, and they promised not to deny her contact with Remus should she wish, but only if he agreed to it.

They weren’t sure about her decision to cut all contact, but she was pretty adamant about it, about screwing him up or something.

It was the fact that Remus remembered most of it that hurt him.

He had vivid memories of full moons where he was screaming and crying for his mum, who was passed out on the other side of the door, his dad shouting and punching a wall before he walked out, waking up in a strange house after a nightmare and not knowing where his mum was to comfort him for those first few nights after he had moved in with Poppy and Minerva.

He had acted out a lot in those first months, pushing Poppy and Minerva away, shouting for his mum.

It wasn’t until Poppy walked in after the full moon one morning and wrapped Remus in a blanket, pulling him into a hug, that he broke down and cried for 30 minutes straight.

That was when the shift happened. When Remus went from pushing them away and living on autopilot to acting like a kid again, eventually calling the two of them his parents, and they had never denied Remus the right to know anything about Hope and Lyall.

The nightmares had probably always been going, but 6 year old Remus opened up about them after that.

They hadn’t specifically been about Hope, before.

“Remus, honey…” Minerva rested her hand over Remus’, which was sitting on her desk at this point.

“I guess there’s just always been a part of me that thought she’d get back in contact if she… got clean, y’know?” Minerva nodded sympathetically. “And I keep having this same dream, and it’s- it’s not negative, but I hate it, I just want it to- to stop.”

“If you want to talk to me about it, you know you can, and I’ll have a chat with mum about other solutions.”

“I- it’s from the last full moon I spent at Hope’s.” He admitted quietly. “One of the ones where she came to me, after. She sat with me and told me stories for hours while she did the best she could at patching everything up, and I just remember feeling like she loved me.” Minerva watched him carefully, his eyes sliding shut for a moment.

“Remus, Hope loves you. She was struggling.”

“I know.” He said back, eyes fixed on the desk. “And I love the place I’m at now, and everything I’ve been able to do, but I don’t want to think about her. I don’t want to think about any of it.”

“Remus-“

“Because when I think of the good, I automatically start to think of the bad, and there’s so much more to think about then. Like every so often my dreams will spiral from that to the times when I was banging on the door to be let out after a moon and Hope was literally unconscious, or that time I watched Lyall slap her, and I- I don’t-“ A few tears rolled down Remus’ cheeks, which he wiped away harshly, blinking the rest back. “It happened 10 years ago, it shouldn’t still hurt.” Minerva kept her eyes on him for a moment as he composed himself. “My friends have started noticing that I’ve got a silencing charm around my bed at night.” He added. “They asked me why, and I don’t know what to say to them. I mean, they know the basics, but I- I don’t know, it was worse than I let on, and I don’t want them to be annoyed that I didn’t tell them the whole truth.”

“They’re your friends, Remus. If you don’t want to tell them, you don’t have to, but you can trust them if you do want to tell them. I’ll have a chat with mum and see what we can do about the nightmares, yeah?”

“Thanks, mum.” Remus said with a smile.

It was hard, talking to his friends.

Still, his mum was right. They knew pretty much everything about him, he could tell them.

Sirius was the one who brought it up again. They were in the dorm, sat on Remus’ bed, James and Peter out buying supplies for their next prank, as Sirius glanced at him from across the room.

“Hey, Moony?”

“Mhm?” Remus took his eyes off his book, meeting Sirius’ and ignoring the way his heart sped up. That was pretty much second nature, at this point.

“I know when Prongs brought it up, you said it was nothing, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but… the silencing charms at night, uh… I used to use them too. Before the dreamless sleeping potion.” He said quietly. “I was just wondering if you- if everything’s alright.” Remus watched him carefully for a few moments, his mum’s words replaying in his mind. He trusted Sirius.

“Yeah, I just… sometimes I get dreams- well, nightmares, really, about some of the things that happened before my mums.” He answered. “Dreamless sleeping potion doesn’t really have an effect on me, anymore, so…” Before Sirius could say anything else, Remus kept going. “It’s just- fuck, this is hard. I keep getting… nightmares, about everything that happened. About- about Hope getting slapped, or screamed at, or me trying to get out of the basement after a full moon but Hope being too out of it to open the door.” Remus added quietly. Sirius was watching him carefully, face full of empathy.

That was enough for Remus to feel guilty for keeping it from him.

“Moony…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell all of you earlier, I-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Remus could feel a hand in his, fingers automatically winding together, and it was like his brain had just… stopped. Malfunctioned. Maybe even run away. Sirius was holding his hand. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. If you- if you want, though, you can come and find me if it happens again. I’m a pretty light sleeper.”

“Padfoot, are you sure?”

“Of course, anything.”

A wave of fondness overwhelmed Remus then, almost immediately followed by a sinking dread settling in his stomach.

That was the moment that Remus realised he was in love with Sirius Black.

Sure, every so often he called himself ‘hopelessly in love’ with Sirius, but the term had never carried much weight, any real substance. His crush had been embarrassing at the best of times, but he hadn’t realised that love was so deep it hurt.

All it had taken was one word to make his world expand and collapse all at the same time.

Anything.

Once the world had finally stopped spinning around him, he realised that Sirius was still looking at him, whose eyes flicked to their joined hands for a moment. Remus half expected him to pull away and apologise, but instead he just met Remus’ gaze a little curiously, almost waiting to see his reaction. Remus felt his stomach drop as he tightened his grip on Sirius’ hand. Something shifted in the air between them, feeling the same as it did that time in detention.

And the bloody door opened.

He had never been so irritated at people walking into a room before, but as the two of them pulled their hands away and moved to opposite ends of Remus’ bed, he honestly wanted to murder Prongs. Something was about to happen, he was so sure of it. Not enough to bring it up again.

Fuck, he was a mess.

[youarestrongerthanyouthinkyouare]

(DON’T) LET THIS BE THE END - CHAPTER 10

Maddie's mood has never been worse than now. She tosses and turns in that uncomfortable hospital bed, hissing everytime cause she feels some pain, and she can't stop huffing. She knows she has to be grateful, because it could have been worse, and she is, but that doesn't stop her from being angry, sad, worried. She finds herself hearing Doug’s words in her ears again and again, when he told her she was ruining the lives of the people she said she loved, and she can't deny that she’s thinking about it. She knows the concern that Chim and Buck felt and are still feeling, she sees it in their eyes every time they went to see her in the hospital, and she feels guilty because she know they risked their life to protect her, especially Chim that day at home. Doug could have noticed him and react and hurt him, maybe even kill him, but Chim had given a damn and gone there to help her anyway, and while it warms her heart that someone did that for her, she feels pain at the very thought of what could have happened.

The sound of a video call interrupts her thoughts, and she shakes all her worries away when she sees Chim on the other side of the screen.

“Good morning princess, how are you feeling today?”

“Good morning, I’m fine, a little uncomfortable. You?”

“How are you feeling?”

"I'm fine, uncomfortable, you?"

“I’m fine, I've been at work for a couple of hours.” He looks at her and she sees love "You are so beautiful,"

“Ok you're my boyfriend and you have to say it but I have two purple dark circles that almost reach my chin, I haven't washed my hair for three days, I'm really not beautiful today, Chim” she laughs and looks at him “You look so tired. Did you sleep last night?”

"Yes... I slept, even if I missed you.”

She smiles "I miss you too, can't wait to sleep in your arms."

“I'm coming to the hospital when I finish here, do you need something?"

"No, don't come Chim, it's useless due to the short duration of the visits.”

"I’d come even if I could only see you for 2 minutes.”

She shakes her head "we can have another video call as soon as you finish work.”

"As you prefer. If you change your mind, tell me.”

She nods then hisses, fluttering her eyelids and trying to find a comfortable position "I'm going now, mh? The doctor will come in a bit, be careful ok?" She quickly sends him a kiss and closes the call before letting him answer, then she puts her cell phone on the pillow and puts a hand on her face.

[...]

He puts the phone down as Maddie hangs up, sighing and fighting back a yawn. He is tired, physically since he hasn't slept for days and above all mentally. He thought he could be stronger but apparently he was wrong, he couldn’t get those images out of his mind. He sees her bleeding everytime he closes his eyes, he sees Doug’s evil smile and keeps hearing his words on repeat his mind, he seems to taste her blood every time she tries to kiss him. He kisses her back every time, he needs to kiss her, but even then his mind goes back there, in that house on that floor, to what they thought would be their last kiss. He doesn't want to talk to her about it, he doesn't want to victimize himself, but really he doesn't want to talk to anyone else about it, he just hopes that everything will pass quickly and that he can get back to normal with himself and with her.

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